


Someone to hold on to

by TooRational



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Holidays, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooRational/pseuds/TooRational
Summary: Daryl, Paul, and a holiday dance at the Hilltop.





	Someone to hold on to

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Desus Holiday Bingo 2k17, prompt no. 9 (or G2): 'dance'. Thanks to everyone in the Desus squad for organizing this! You, my dearest folk, are the best. ♥
> 
> This is utterly shameless fluff. You've been warned. :)

The largest room at Barrington House, usually used as a meeting place slash mess hall, is completely packed with almost every single Hilltop resident. No one's really kept track of what day it was since this whole 'dead rising' thing started but by all indications it should be December now, so it was decided a general Holiday celebration would be held on a randomly selected day.

The place is nicely decorated, Daryl supposes. He's no expert but it looks like everything fits together despite the variety of items and cultures. There's a tree ornamented with dyed pinecones and kids' homemade paper decorations in one corner, hard as hell to drag back to Hilltop but worth the effort when one sees the looks of awe and joy on tiny faces. There's a couple of lit menorahs on window sills, lending a soft and peaceful glow to the celebration. Mats with candles, cups and fresh fruit are scattered on a few tables throughout the room, looking rich and inviting. There's even a small statue in one corner (Ganesha, someone explained) with a few wrapped gifts in front of it.

Colors are _everywhere_ , vibrant and eye-catching -- on clothes, cloths, decorations, even painted on the wall by Eduardo, who apparently has artistic talent because the supernova that covers one wall and reaches out its tendrils on all sides, even the floor, looks kind of incredible. A few of the residents play and sing tirelessly, providing the final touch to the joyful mood.

Everything looks so idyllic it's a bit nauseating, to be honest. Daryl was never the type for family gatherings and parties, partly because all the activities in his family stopped once his momma died, and partly because the only parties he's ever attended have been at the local bar. Daryl would bail or volunteer for guard duty, uncomfortable with all the people and closed quarters, but Maggie pulled her sad puppy eyes on him so he caved to putting in an appearance. Just for a couple hours, though, and then he's on shift at the wall.

He's situated strategically, holding up the wall in a spot a bit more difficult to access and thus less populated, but one that still has a clear route to the exit. Watching people embarrass themselves is the only bright spot in this torture, and there's plenty of silliness to look at.

Glenn comes to mind suddenly, the vivid image of his red face while getting drunk at the CDC so long ago carrying a pang of sorrow. He should be here with Maggie right now, as should Beth, and Hershel, and many others.

Yeah, holidays aren't really Daryl's thing. Too many bad memories.

A burst of laughter draws his attention and he sees Paul twirling a giggling Enid on the 'dance floor', Carl half-scowling, half-pouting in the background. It shouldn't come as a surprise that Paul knows all the classical dances, the man is a well of knowledge and useless information, always has been. But seeing him dance, graceful and fluid just like he is when doing a roundhouse kick, is captivating. So far, he danced with every woman even remotely interested, and charmed a few shy ones into having some fun. He even did a turn with Kal, as well as an awkward, gangly boy who looked about ready to burst into flames, blush out in full force.

Paul looks energized and relaxed at the same time, chatting with Bertie now, body loose, hair up in a bun with a few strands escaping. There's a lightness to his movement, to his posture, that Daryl hasn't seen before. The war ending probably has something to do with it, and Maggie delivering her baby safely, too. That one was enough to make them all breathe a little easier. But Daryl would be a liar if he said the recent change in their relationship didn't have any influence, either.

As if sensing his gaze, Paul turns and looks straight at Daryl, expression softening when their eyes catch. He talks to Bertie for another moment and then starts walking toward Daryl, weaving between groups of people effortlessly.

"Hey," he says when he's in front of Daryl, a mere foot apart. "No dancing for you tonight?"

Daryl scoffs and rolls his eyes, "Yeah, right."

"You're allowed to have fun, you know," Paul says, as if this shindig is something Daryl would ever consider 'fun'.

"Who says I ain't?" Daryl lies like a cheap rug, but Paul doesn't call him on it. He can be nice like that when he wants to, and The Holiday is apparently that time.

"Okay," Paul says, smiling fondly at him. He seems content just to stand there and look at Daryl, be close to him while chatting inanely about nothing. Daryl will probably never grow tired of seeing Paul so happy, so at ease. His eyes actually sparkle, like something from a freakin' Disney movie.

"Well, I'm gonna go dance some more, then. Don't be too jealous," Paul smirks and raises an eyebrow, then turns to leave.

"As if," Daryl snorts but the half smile curling his lips betrays him. He knows he probably _should_ be jealous, Paul is young and gorgeous and has a lot more experience than him. He could have anyone he wanted -- hell, half the population is already half-way in love with him just because he's _Jesus_.

But see, that's the thing. Very few people know _Paul_ , and Paul is loyal to a fault. Cheating is just not in him; in fact, it's so far off the table it's not even an option. He's just like Daryl, in that way: once you earn his trust he's in it for the long haul.

"Oh, almost forgot," Paul turns back around abruptly and presses a lingering kiss to Daryl's cheek, and Daryl's heart skips a beat.

Paul's hands are lightly resting on his biceps, the little ninja never missing an opportunity to cop a feel of Daryl's arms, and he's close enough for Daryl to smell him, the unique mix of scents he's still getting used to waking up to every morning made even more potent by exertion. It's intoxicating as ever, brings with it flashes of lazy mornings and gentle awakenings with his nose buried into the nape of Paul's neck. It's funny, how quickly something becomes a habit, since there's barely a month's worth of memories and rituals.

It's not something they tend to do, put their hands or lips on each other outside Paul's trailer. Not because of any attempt at secrecy or feelings of shame, but simply because it's something private, meant only for the two of them. Their feelings are still new, raw and tender in a way, and exposing them to the outside world feels like exposing an open wound - ill-advised and dangerous.

He suspects Paul has been holding back, though, and Daryl has had to stop himself from reaching for him more and more lately. He got used to being able to touch Paul so quickly, got used to being touched in return, gentle hands soothing his scarred and aching flesh, that it's almost weird to hold back.

Paul pulls back and starts turning to leave, and suddenly Daryl can't bear him being even an inch away more than absolutely necessary. He straightens and reaches out, wrapping a hand around Paul's waist and pulling him close. It's nerve-wracking, doing this in here, with what feels like every single eye in the room focused on them at the moment, but he powers through. Paul is here, and Paul takes priority over everything else right now, so Daryl focuses on him. And slowly, everything else fades away, unimportant.

"Hi, what's this?" Paul whispers, eyes wide but settling into Daryl easily, naturally, like he's meant to be there. Daryl thinks he probably was. There's no one who could fit into his arms better than Paul.

"Nothin'," Daryl says, "Just sick of you bein' so far away."

Paul chuckles, brushing his nose against Daryl's in a gentle gesture that's rapidly becoming a habit. Daryl's entire chest fills with warmth. What did he ever do, to deserve someone like Paul in his life, at his side? He must've done something really good at some point, though he can't for the life of him figure out what.

Daryl can't stop himself, sees it as if from a distance as he cups Paul's cheek and pulls him in, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss that deepens on its own almost immediately. This is something that keeps happening, them touching or kissing and the situation spinning out of control rapidly, like all the years of loneliness and isolation finally caught up to them and now they're hypersensitive and touch starved at the same time. They've spent more time in the trailer in the last month than out of it, which is kind of impressive considering the amount of work they had to do and all the runs they've been on.

They break apart only because they have to, drawing breath into burning lungs and then fusing their lips back together with more kisses, ones that are deeper and headier. _God_ , how is it possible for something to feel _this good_ , how do people not do this all day every day until they're forced to separate or waste away? Their bodies are pressed together like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, the give and take of dips and curves so familiar already. Daryl would recognize the shape of this body among hundreds, simply by the way it reacts to his, wraps around his, radiates comfort and caring into his.

It's difficult to think past the man in his arms but Daryl eventually remembers they're in the same room as all of Hilltop, tightening his arms around Paul in an effort to stop them from roaming to more interesting places. It takes a couple of minutes and more self-control than Daryl wants to admit before they manage to calm down, kisses turning soft, hands caressing and not clinging almost desperately. Daryl is slumped against the wall again while Paul is draped over him like a blanket, one leg pressed tantalizingly between his. They part their lips with reluctance and Paul rubs his bearded cheek against Daryl's scruffy one in comfort. The tingling from the sensation spreads all over Daryl's body and makes him shiver.

"Oh, boy, that was..." Paul trails off, wrapping his arms around Daryl's shoulders more firmly.

"Yeah," Daryl mutters as he closes his eyes and buries his face into the crook of Paul's neck. Best not to see anyone else right now, no need to ruin a good moment.

Paul kisses the edge of his jaw and stays right where he is while Daryl just breathes, in and out, in and out, in and out.

Turns out, holidays are a lot easier to stomach when you have someone to hold on to.

Go figure.


End file.
